


Give Me Fire

by petrovasfire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Some Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 00:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1285039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrovasfire/pseuds/petrovasfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just a matter of time and place, and <i>now</i> and <i>her bedroom</i> sound about right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me Fire

Allison checks her phone a fourth time that night. Still no new messages. The clock on the top right corner of the screen says 3:07 AM, but it feels like barely an hour ago since she was shooed out of Isaac’s hospital room. He’d looked exactly the same as he had when he was first admitted, and Allison is growing anxious at the lack of changes. Scott had told her once that a certain level of voltage imposed on a werewolf would wound them to a point of temporarily losing their healing powers, but Allison’s been good at keeping that thought far beneath piles of other recent rising affairs.

She kicks off the sheets and spreads her legs across the queen-sized bed. Heaving a sigh at the darkness surrounding her, she reaches for her phone again. It’s useless, she knows it, but it’s an awful habit that her fingers haven’t been able to shake off.

The sixth time she checks her phone, she hears something else apart from the muted beeping of her phone. Muffled footsteps, pacing in front of her room. She thinks it’s her father at first, but what the hell would he be doing marching in front of his daughter's room at this time of the night?

There’s only one other person who ever comes over, but as far as she’s concerned, he’s still in the hospital. Her heart picks up its beating and, as if by force of habit, she swipes her crossbow from under the bed and aims it at the door.

“Allison?”

She’s squinting through the darkness, and once her pupils adjust, she drops her weapon immediately.

“ _Isaac_ ,” she breathes, her heartbeat picking up even more speed. She's staring straight at him, not quite believing what she's seeing. Not hours ago he was almost dying and now he’s standing here in her doorway, looking as sheepish and clueless as he always does.

Before either of them knows what they’re doing, Allison sprints across the bedroom and leaps onto him, throwing her arms around his neck and wrapping her legs round his waist. He catches her fluidly.

They stare at each other blankly at first, as though unsure just what to do from there. It’s parallel to the night they stripped their clothes off and her father walked in. But this time Allison wants to be anything but hesitant. She initiates by pressing her lips firmly against his; a kiss full of certainty, as though her lips are imprinting a kind of pattern on his—one that feels roughly familiar.

That’s all it takes for Isaac to make his move, and he lets out a hushed growl before kissing her back and dragging his lips down to her neck. His hands slowly inch down below her waist, winding around her ass. If it had been the old Allison, she would've been giggling uncontrollably by now. But now she knows the meaning of control and also what it feels like to take it. She’s moaning in his ear and they're both nearly out of breath already, yet Allison still manages to mutter, “Bedroom.”

They shut the door behind them and it’s still no different. It’s darker this time though, and Isaac thinks it’s better, because it leaves room for them to feel each other’s skin and figure out exactly where they’re touching. His back is against the door and her hands are everywhere—running across his warm skin underneath his shirt, snarling through his curls and occasionally slipping into his pants. She says his name a couple of times before she actually realises she's doing it. But then he says her name too, so in the end it's just heavy breaths and _Allison_ s and _Isaac_ s. They’re still kissing each other senseless as if they had been drinking all night, but then they’d both been waiting for this since the rave, long before Oni and Kitsunes came in the way. It’s just a matter of time and place, and _now_ and _her bedroom_ sound about right.

Once they’re really out of breath, he scoops her up in his arms and sets her down gently on the bed. He takes off his T-shirt and tosses it onto the floor, and Allison briefly remembers the nightmare she had a while back. She’s half-expecting Kate to appear behind him, but when all she sees is the questioning look in his eyes, she peels off her own blouse from her body.

There’s another pause as they take in what they didn’t have the chance to the night her father had walked in on them. Their eyes meet and it’s a nonverbal agreement: they’re ready, _much_ too ready to drown in each other completely.

He pushes himself steadily between her thighs and sinks into her, and never has she felt more alive. Her fingers press gently into the shape of his backbone and his lips graze against her shoulder, her neck, her jaw. When he brings his lips down on her ample chest and all the way to her stomach, the fire he lights in her is so overwhelming she sinks her freshly trimmed nails deeper into his back, pulling his bare body so close on top of hers they rasp against each other. His skin is hot; almost burning, and she doesn't know if it’s a werewolf thing or just hormonal.

What she does know in this very moment is that they are much more than just skin and flesh and bones; they are a pair of flames set alight by breathing in each other's heat. She sees their shadows fuse into a dark nucleus on the ceiling. Desire lingers strongly in the air; it's on their tongues and it dances on the tips of their spines and ribs. In fact, the whole room smacks of wet desire. Allison's eyes are closed and her mouth hangs open; she’s so new to this that she almost feels embarrassed, especially when each time she does open her eyes, she finds him looking back at her. Scott had been so tender with her— _too_ tender, so she’s never uncovered this territory before. She’d guessed beforehand that Isaac would be one to go all the way and she'd loved that, just as she’s loving it right now.

* * *

It’s almost dawn and they’re lying side by side, hip bones touching and palms pressed together. They both stare at the ceiling, watching the sun wake up the rest of the world, its light emerging slowly from the shadows.

“How…?” Allison begins, but then the words are crammed so tightly together she ends up losing her sentence entirely.

“Derek.” Isaac tilts his head to look at her. All he sees is her side profile, clearly defined and perfectly complemented by her brown hair. “And Scott, and the twins. Even Peter.”

Allison turns her body towards him, and only then does she get a clear view of his face in the light. One side of his face is almost completely covered with burn marks that look more like an awful rash and, the higher the sun rose, the more noticeable they are. When he catches her peering at them, he averts his gaze in shame. He wishes the sun would dip again and flood the room with darkness. He doesn't want her to see him like this—flawed, like what so many others always have. He sinks his head deeper into the pillow in an unsuccessful attempt to hide the scars. Allison shakes her head.

“Stop.” She smooths out his curls that’s flopped over his forehead. “It’s okay. It doesn't look that bad.”

“Yeah, right,” Isaac shoots back, then sighs. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to worry about these. Wounds and scars.”

Allison strokes his cheek gently and Isaac closes his eyes. She doesn't care what he thinks. He's still flawless to her. Scars aren't flaws, they make up a person—they tell a story. And his burn marks, no matter how long they're bound to last, will always be the story of how he'd saved her life. How he had put hers before his own. It could've been her that had been electrocuted and, if it had, she would've been gone just like that. She leans forward and kisses the side of his face fleetingly.

“Does it sting much?”

“If it did at all, Allison, I don't think last night would've happened,” Isaac replies, smirking.

**Author's Note:**

> (Yes, the title is a reference to 'Close to You' by Neon Trees. It gives me so many Allison/Isaac feels, I just, ugh.)


End file.
